


In My Defense, I Have None

by FionaNotJuliet



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M, Past Lovers, Post Timeskip, reconnecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26345845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionaNotJuliet/pseuds/FionaNotJuliet
Summary: Shirabu and Terushima used to date, but broke up once they had both graduated. Now they have met up again by chance, both having found their way to Tokyo.
Relationships: Shirabu Kenjirou/Terushima Yuuji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	In My Defense, I Have None

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ramvne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramvne/gifts).



> The title is from The 1 by Taylor Swift, because it briefly inspired this piece. 
> 
> I write this as a gift to my friend, Elliot.

Walking into the salon, Shirabu ran his hand through his disheveled hair. He’d just gotten off a late night shift and wanted nothing more than to crash in his small, but comfy bed. However, he knew that he’d put things off for long enough; his hair was beginning to grow a mind of its own. 

Sitting down in a chair, the medical resident scrolled mindlessly through the different news articles, catching up on what he’d missed during the late night. It was due to this mindless scrolling that he managed to miss the hairstylist that came to the front, searching for their next client. 

Terushima had finished sweeping the remnants of his last clients hair, enjoying the calming, yet mindless motions that left his station ready for his next client. He liked to keep his clients booked back to back that way he was busy for the entire day. It was due to this scheduling that he hadn’t had a chance to check the name of the person who had requested a 9:00 am appointment, until he walked up to the front lobby. 

Looking down at the paper in front of him, Terushima paused, wondering if maybe it was merely a coincidence that the name was so similar to his ex from Miyagi. Without looking up, the blond called out the name. “Shirabu?”

The person sitting in the far corner perked up, having heard his name called. Sliding his phone into his back pocket, Shirabu stood and made his way to the front, eyes still not yet lifted. 

“That’s me,” he said, before lifting his eyes to come face to face with the blond from his past, staring with his mouth gaping wide in surprise. “Oh.”

Terushima stood there a moment, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say, not sure what exactly was appropriate in this moment. Sure, he’d had plenty of run-ins with exes, but none of them were quite like Shirabu. 

Taking a deep breath, Terushima steeled himself, deciding that professionalism was the best option at this moment. Letting a smile fall on his lips, the hair stylist stepped aside, allowing Shirabu through to the back of the salon where the stations were set up. 

“When they told me that I had a new client signed up, I wasn’t exactly expecting that it was going to be someone from the past. Long time, no see, Ke-,” he cut himself off with a wistful smile, before bowing in apology. “Shirabu.”

The medical resident, having been blindsided, forced his eyes to the ground, avoiding any and all eye contact with Terushima. “Small world,” he mumbled, making his way to a brightly colored station and having a seat. 

Terushima huffed a laugh, unable to stop himself. The sound caused a dusting of red to make its way over Shirabu’s cheeks, causing him to grow irate at the embarrassment. “What?” He snapped, crossing his arms and turning away from Terushima who had moved to grab the cape hanging next to his station. 

“It’s nothing. Just… my station doesn’t have my name on it. That’s all.”

Dread began to edge its way into Shirabu’s stomach as he realized just what he’d done. 

“W-well, it’s the only station that’s painted that obnoxious yellow that you love. And not to mention the sunflowers in the bouquet. It was obvious.” 

Still refusing to look the blond in the eyes, Shirabu settled himself in the chair as the cape was fastened around his neck. 

Terushima hummed at the astute observation, his hands making their way into the sandy brown hair, fingers running through the strands. In spite of how he was acting, Shirabu couldn’t help but to lean into the touch, his body reacting naturally to the former lover who had practiced plenty of hair styles on him in the past. 

The blond smiled softly, almost forgetting that it had been years since they last saw each other and that they were at his place of business. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and reached forward to grab a spray bottle filled with water. 

“Your hair is longer than normal. You must be busy.” It was meant to be conversational, but the words held a weight behind them. The words spoke of familiarity, knowing someone so well that you knew the length of their hair nearly as well as you knew your own. 

Shirabu nodded tersely, the weight heavy in his chest. “Residency is kicking my ass,” he admitted, quietly. It wasn’t something that he was even willing to say to his family, but something about the familiarity of Terushima made it so easy to say out loud. 

Terushima clicked his tongue in acknowledgement, before he moved to spray the water over Shirabu’s hair, hands moving almost on autopilot. Before he knew it, his scissors were in his hands and he had to stop himself with a mental scolding as he realized that he hadn’t confirmed with Shirabu what hairstyle he wanted. 

“You want your usual, right?” 

They both knew the question was merely a formality, something that Terushima had to ask to cover his ass. 

“The only times I ever changed my hair style were when you were involved. Yes, I want the usual, Yuuji.”

At the sound of his first name leaving Shirabu’s mouth, Terushima’s breath caught in his throat; in that moment, he realized just how much he had missed the sarcastic, soft tone of Shirabu’s voice. 

“Right, of course,” he managed to get out after a few moments. 

Lips pressed tightly together to stop himself from saying anything that might embarrass the both of them, Terushima got to work. It would never be his favorite hairstyle to cut, yet somewhere deep in his subconscious, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how it was his favorite hairstyle to see. 

The cut itself never took too long for a normal stylist, but Shirabu had to admit that he’d missed how efficient and precise Terushima was with his hair cuts. 

If he looked deep within himself, Shirabu could admit that there was more that he missed about Terushima. He missed the way that Terushima just knew him. How it had been so easy for the two of them to fall together. He missed the way that Terushima would poke his tongue out of his mouth where the ball of his piercing was just visible when he was concentrating, much like the way that it was in that moment that he finished up the style. 

A breath caught in Shirabu’s throat as he finally looked up at Terushima through the large mirror that was in front of him. He couldn’t stop himself from staring at the familiar face; he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about how the years had only barely begun to touch Terushima’s youthful smile. 

Without meaning to, Shirabu thought back to the last time that the two had been together. It had been a bittersweet moment, Shirabu having graduated from Shiratorizawa and getting ready to pack his dorm up to move down to Tokyo so that he could go to college. Terushima had been lounging on his bed, pouting at the mere thought of not being able to see Shirabu for months at a time. 

Shirabu, the self destructive fool that he had been all those years ago, had tried to make it easier on Terushima and himself. Pragmatically, he had explained that it would just be better for the two of them to part their ways then and there. He could never forget the way that Terushima had looked crushed, but merely closed his eyes to fight back his tears as he nodded. 

Both of them had known it wasn’t Terushima’s preference, but he would do anything for Shirabu, even if it meant saying goodbye. So, despite their hearts aching, they had packed up Shirabu’s father’s car and said their farewells, assuming that it would be for good. 

“Shirabu. Shirabu,” came the quiet voice from right behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts as he refocused his eyes to meet Terushima’s eyes in the mirror. 

“You’re done?” He hated the way that he sounded sad. He hated the way that he knew that this meant it was time for him to say goodbye, again. 

Terushima nodded, his hands smoothing through the hair one more time before gently patting the tops of his shoulders and moving away, fingertips lingering as long as they could. 

A shiver snaked its way down Shirabu’s spine at the loss of the touch, before he nodded. Upon standing, he realized the cape had been removed, so he knew that he had likely been sitting there, spacing out for a moment. 

After bowing, Shirabu pulled out his wallet to pay, giving the bills to Terushima. The blond reached out, accepting the bills and sighing in relief as their fingertips grazed each other. 

“Shi-”

“Te-”

The two stopped, hoping the other would take the pause as a meaning to keep talking. Both stared for a moment, hoping the other would speak first. 

“I mi-”

“We sh-”

Terushima burst out laughing, his laugh causing a soft smile to lift the corners of Shirabu’s lips in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Sorry, you go first,” Terushima managed to get out through the last vestiges of giggles. 

Licking his lips, Shirabu nodded, taking back his serious demeanor. 

“I would like to see you again.”

It was straight to the point, just the way that Terushima remembered him being. He missed the blunt way that Shirabu spoke, leaving no room for misinterpretation. 

Pulling out his phone, Terushima nodded. “I would like that, too, Kenjirou.” 

Filling out the contact information and adding flower emojis next to his name, Terushima handed his phone to Shirabu. “Give me your number and we can set up a coffee date or something.”

Pausing, phone in hand, Shirabu looked Terushima in the eyes. “So… you’re single?”

Sliding into his flirty persona, Terushima gave a wicked smirk and winked. “I am for now, but who can say in the next few weeks?”

Shirabu let out a disgusted groan, before shoving the phone into Terushima’s waiting hands once his number and email had been added. “You haven’t changed a bit, Yuuji.” He’d meant for the sentence to come out derisive, but he couldn’t help but note how fond it sounded even to his ears. 

“Isn’t that why you like me?” The words were tinged with his flirtatious nature, but also with a hint of hope. 

The corners of his lips lifted again in another soft smile and Shirabu nodded. “Yes. It is.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this piece that I wrote in an hour. 
> 
> If you'd like, follow me on twitter @fionanotjuliet 
> 
> Thank you for your time.


End file.
